


The Path to Hell

by HTFNoelle



Series: Galin's Final Scion [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Exhibit A, Gen, One Shot, The problem with being a NG Fiend Warlock, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HTFNoelle/pseuds/HTFNoelle
Summary: You don't need to have good intentions when you doom yourself. In fact, it's far easier when you don't.





	

She didn't notice Adelenna die.

She was too focused on running down the forest trails as fast as her legs could possibly carry them. Too focused on getting her and Adelenna as far away from the dragon and its choking breath as she could before it felled her like it had felled everyone else. She raced to escape the beast and the screams of those who still lived and she didn't help. Somewhere during that, confused and disorientated, Adelenna breathed her last as the poison strangled the breath from her lungs. 

It was only after she fell to her knees in front of an ancient oak, gasping and shaking from strain, that she finally saw the truth. Although it took time to sink in. 

"Don’t worry.” She whispered, loosening her grip, “Don’t worry Addie, we’re safe.”

There was no answer, no movement. 

"Addie…” She shook the girl, gentle but firm. Adelenna’s head lolled. Her eyes did not flutter. Her chest did not rise. Ice started to creep into Shariel’s veins.

"Sweet, it’s okay. It’s okay... you can wake up.”

The only answer was silence, but for the wind rustling through the forest and the breath rasping through her throat. The day was warm, but she felt nothing but cold now. Freezing, unending cold as she stared at the corpse that was her godchild. There were tear tracks on the little girl’s cheeks, almost dry. The poison had made her feverish, and the fading flush made her look lifelike. 

Some tiny, dark part of Shariel was hopelessly thankful Adelenna's eyes were closed and not staring sightlessly. She couldn't endure those eyes staring at her, devoid of life and hope.

"Please.”

She was not sure who she was talking to, or even if she was speaking to anyone at all. The word left her lips unbidden, but then she looked up and saw the ancient oak before her. Her heart twisted, a desperate hope forming as she placed her hand on one of the gnarled roots.

"My Lord." She did not try and keep the pleading from her voice, “Father of the Forest, please.”

Her fingers tightened on the bark, mindless of splinters. She dug her nails into it as if she could drag it free of its moorings. Her mind flit, unbidden, to a memory she rarely let herself think of.  
[i]'Resurrection, Ri. Can you imagine it? Such a show a favor must be glorious to behold, don't you think? I hope Bahamut grants me that power someday.'[/i]

His voice was so carefree then. So different to the way he last spoke, full of desperation and sorrow.

She came back to the present unwillingly. Her plea was answered with nothing but the sound of the forest all around her. The rustling leaves and sighing branches seemed to taunt her with their serenity.  
It was as if she can feel Adelenna cooling beneath her fingertips. Each second seemed so precious, and so infinitely long as she stared at the oak. 

"We have served you." Her voice shook, "We have served [i]you[/i] for generations. So many centuries of faith and worship. Why can't you do this?" 

There was ice in her veins, but it seemed to be losing its hold. The shock was fading, letting the rage seep in. 

"Why would you let this happen? Why must I be here on my knees begging you to undo this? Why did it have to happen in the first place?!" Her voice was raw with rage, each word louder than the last. 

She dragged herself closer to the oak and slammed her fists against it, pounding the trunk uselessly. 

"Is this what comes of your favor, Silvanus? Death or submission? Do we mean nothing to you? Will that creature rule this forest now? Is it its new protector?"

There was no answer. No sign. The oak stood tall and strong, unmoving and untouched. The sounds of the forest felt pitiless and cold. 

That was answer enough. 

Her fingers uncurled, and she laid her palms flush with the trunk. The bark dug in harshly when she leaned her head against it. She spoke, her words slow and deliberate.

"If that is your will, I will usurp it. I will slay that monster, Silvanus. I will tear its heart from its chest, and when I have, I will set this forest alight until there is nothing but ash." She screamed the next few words, letting her rage blot out her terror and her sorrow. Letting its heat burn away any feeling within her," It will be my clan's pyre and nothing more! A wasteland to warn any against placing their faith in [i]you[/i]."

The ice had long retreated from her veins, but the rage overtaking her seemed to grow more and more each second. It filled her to the brim and then spilled out, exploding from her hands as flames that burst across the oak tree and set it alight. 

The flames spread quickly, too quickly. The tree went up like it had been doused in oil, flames flickering across it in the space of a breath. She dragged Adelenna away, covering her from any falling sparks, but she could not tear her eyes away. 

The tree survived for a minute, maybe two. When it was over, there was nothing but ash and softly glowing embers that pulsed with an angry red glow. The sun's setting light flooded into the new hole in the canopy, and Shariel could only stare in awed terror at what she had done. 

Then a voice spoke, with a power the resonated in her bones and sung to the rage that still seethed within her, "Such a rare spirit you have, little fey. So much anger. So much sorrow."

She didn't turn to look. She was frozen, either in terror or in shock, she didn't know. 

The creature walked into her sight. It towered, swathed in gold and jewels. Gilded horns curved to frame a grinning face that reminded her ever so vaguely of a tiefling, but with more horrid beauty than any mortal could ever hope to have. It spoke again, "Such an... ambitious oath to swear with so little power to fulfill it."

"You... heard?" Her voice was weak and pitiful, her words idiotic as they were pointless. 

It laughed, and it was like the baying of hounds and the roaring of flames more than it was anything approaching mirth, "Of course. I always listen in when there are blood oaths being made."  
Her eyes went at once to her hands, which were covered in ash and blood. Her blood, from where she ripped her hands on the bark. 

"You have fire, little fey. It is so rare among your kind. They are content to languish and watch the world change, lamenting all the while. They never wish to change it," The power in its voice resonated, but so did the words themselves. The truth of them were so stark and clear it almost burned. 

It walked towards her, its cloven hooves leaving ash in their wake. Its face was not one that could hold any speck of softness, but it at least made an attempt, "Your god has answered you, but I will give you a different one. Take my hand, and I shall ensure you fulfill your oath. Nothing will stop you from its completion."

When she looked back, she remembered with stark clarity the loving way it said "nothing". A purr that should have warned her, stopped her. Instead she reached out readily, fingertips almost touching its palm before Adelenna shifted in her grip. Her eyes tore away from the devil to look at the corpse, still cradled in her arms. 

She looked up. Her voice was hoarse from screaming, "Save her. Please. Bring her back to me."

It smiled. "What use would that be? The beast still lives, your oath is unfulfilled. What life could you give her now?"

She saw the truth of its words, found herself nodding. But she could not release the body, "After? Bring her back to me after."

"That would not be difficult."

She smiled, then, and there was no hesitation when she took its hand. Not even when the flames roared into her through it. Not even when the power threatened to snap her in two.

She clutched the devil's hand with a serene expression, and let the rage and the flames keep her heartbreak at bay.


End file.
